“Happy not to have what I don’t want”

Hey, I’m back, and I’ve brought a weird lesson with me.

How many things in your life do you have only because someone else has them?
Stuff you don’t even want, but you bought, chased, flexed, or forced into your life because everybody else is doing it.

I’m learning to be genuinely happy when I don’t have things I don’t even want.
Sounds ridiculous, right?
But judge later, hold on for a second!

As this year ends, I’m clearer about what I don’t want anymore.

Right now, I low-key love my hermit era. I don’t need constant stimulation to hide from my emotions but I sit with them. I don’t need to post perfect reels, check in constantly with people to prove I care, or perform relationships.

My love life hasn’t changed, but my self-love has. I accept both my strengths and flaws. I’m honest with how I feel, even if it’s only with myself. I don’t need to be someone else when I interact with people, and that freedom is crazy good.

Every day I meditate 20 minutes in the morning, 10 at night. I’m calmer, more alert, more aware. There’s a space between emotion and reaction now, though sometimes the old habits still control the wheel.

Maybe it looks like I’m hiding on a peaceful little island, reading Buddhist philosophy and practicing detachment. True. But I still live in a normal world with normal people chasing their own dopamine, distractions, noise, constant motion, because sitting still with your mind is terrifying.

And yes, I’m influenced by that.

I get jealous. I want company. I want achievements. I throw my inner peace outside myself and call other people’s lives “success.” I suffer from social comparison.

People look happy right now, but who knows how they feel deeply? When we rely on external things for happiness, we hand over our freedom. Everything leaves eventually, that’s impermanence.

So I remind myself: stay present, don’t cling, enjoy what is, and accept it when life falls apart.

“It is what it is.”

I’m aware of my thoughts and emotions, but challenging emotions still show up. They compare. They whisper, you’re not enough. I can’t stop that voice. But I know where to take refuge.

I know what I need.

So I sit with it again. And again.

And slowly, I’m learning to be at peace, to be genuinely happy not having things I don’t even want.